Lost
by cakeiton
Summary: Sesshoumaru coming to terms with all he has lost by surviving into the modern era.


I don't own anything Inuyasha.

…

The clamor of a city drones down to a hum for those used to its melody. Most believe that it is the noises from new places that cause unrest, but for Sesshoumaru, who had seemingly relocated endless times without ever leaving his homeland, knew better. Throughout the ages as progress became the new natural order, and the feudal era became modern day, the song of Tokyo changed. It was not the difference that made people uneasy, but the absence of the familiar. Tonight, as the bass of vehicles beat and electricity whined, Sesshoumaru lay awake, conflicted with a feeling unknown to him while remembering the sounds of crickets and rivers instead. The blankets surrounding him felt more like a flexible cage, ensnaring his limbs without the slightest bit of pressure. Though he had not been truly comfortable in centuries, tonight an alien emotion kept him from rest.

Whatever it was, this feeling could not be called 'lonely'.

No, the first two hundred years after his human ward fell to her inevitable mortality were lonely; painfully so. The world then seemed quiet, the air bitter, but every flower patch shined brighter. Before he discovered the true power of his father's fang at his side, fields of blooms had faded into the background, merging with endless forests and small human villages during his journeys. Now that they were no longer an impromptu detour for the amusement of a resurrected human girl, Sesshoumaru could not help but notice them, even go out of his way to visit them. His hearing was unmatched, but his memory of listening to her singing songs once thought insufferable slowly faded with the passing of eras until the only time her voice rang is when flowers bloomed.

It made the winter that much colder.

Sesshoumaru knew what was to be lonely and had trained himself to ignore the throbbing it caused at his temples. So this, what he was feeling now, was not loneliness.

However, it could not be named 'boredom' either. That was very familiar to the ageless youkai, where for centuries no other could challenge his strength and his ancestral lands. The reasoning behind quarrels and righteous speeches invoking wars all blended together into one, self-important message delivered to him by pleading lords that he learned to ignore. Their schemes for power made Sesshoumaru's eyes roll; as if he would play part in such things. It was not until many years later he would realize this folly.

He was a creature that could experience in extreme intensity; viewing colors no other could and being able to scent his surroundings in the finest detail. But, when the maximum was the norm, what could he relish? Shamefully, he became lax in his boredom, finding the world tedious, and the result was an uprising strong enough to overthrow him.

Since the fall of his race nothing had surprised him anymore. Sesshoumaru learned there was a significant difference between being aloof and truly not finding joy, even when looking. He had been trained to remain stoic and to appear unimpressed, but now he found it no longer a conscious effort. The world held no amusement for the demon and he had been genuinely bored since the last stand of youkai against man over two centuries ago.

Through this, Sesshoumaru knew loss and what it felt like to be lost. He had traveled these lands before it was known as 'Japan'. Every hill and valley committed to memory even as the landscape changed, yet it was his journey through time that altered him the most. Humans slowly grew in population yet seemingly conquered the terrain overnight and Sesshoumaru felt disoriented on familiar ground. As his homeland was stripped of its space then youkai lord part of his identity died with the resources and subordinates; out of place in the country once his.

No longer Lord of the West, Sesshoumaru sensed the first of many pieces of him slip away.

The ancient demon knew these feelings of loss and monotony intimately. They had been his constant companions as buildings grew taller, grander, and closer together. While the isolated island filled with humans and traders from strange nations, the few remaining youkai ran out of places to hide. The rebellion he led dwindled as it was too little too late. Once Sesshoumaru concealed his hereditary markings and used repulsive smelling chemicals to dye his hair, the last part of him fell with the trimmings of his long hair. A once youkai lord now depended on living as a human in order to survive. To make it worst, it was on lands he was not strong enough to protect.

It was the pinnacle of humiliation.

Yet, now, as he considered what could be troubling his sleep, he knew it was not humiliation either. It was over a hundred years ago he came down from the mountains to face his own shame. Through the kindness of shrines he was able to begin establishing his new identity and a lineage as human. During his stay among monks and priestesses, the demon found hiding his youki useless. It seemed the less demons threatened humans over time, the spiritual powers of their protectors diminished. However, what should have been a convenience instead became a reminder of how he failed.

It had been many years, more than he cared to remember, since assimilating into ningen life. For that time Sesshoumaru repressed the last 500 years and thought more on 'better times', like old men reliving the highlights of their lives. He was old, and tired, yet tonight he could not sleep.

As the alarm clock next to him chimed he awoke from his concentration to a moment of clarity. It was not any one thing that unsettled him, but the combination of them all. Through the years after his last glorious victory over the spider hanyou Sesshoumaru had suffered a slow death of himself, losing every piece of him along the way.

Laying there, staring at the muted color of sunlight on the ceiling, Sesshoumaru felt trapped, like a caged animal. What was worse is that he could not gather the strength to be angry about it.

Rising from an average futon he prepared a mediocre breakfast in his unimpressive flat. Today was the first day he did not miss his fine silks as the cotton shirt and work pants slipped onto his skin. His movements were controlled by routine, his mind shut off, and the golden glimmer that shone through his concealed brown eyes faded slowly, even in the sunlight. It was a beautiful day, but he did not notice. Sesshoumaru was trapped in the winter of his mind, where flowers no longer grew wild and Rin's song died with the memories of better times.

A small tingle fluttered within the back of his mind, but he routinely ignored it. Even as the air became sweeter his superior senses failed to waken him from the stupor. It was not until he almost ran into someone did Sesshoumaru finally wake up.

She must have sensed him, for he had no reason to conceal his youki, only his appearance. That must have been it, because she was frozen still directly in his path. Her hair was dark and pulled back, with bangs that hung slightly in her eyes. The color was drained from her young face and her frame shook slightly. Yet, she stood there, mere inches from him, and slowly raised her head.

When he looked down to her and saw blue eyes stare back a wave of familiarity struck him, though he did not know from where.

Sesshoumaru narrowed his eyes at the onna and watched as hers' rounded with fear.

Fear… she knew him.

The _real_ him.

It was a look he had not seen for ages, and it was only then that he recognized her fully. She was not scared because he seemed like a threat, she was frightened because she knew what he was capable of. In an instant Sesshoumaru was given back what he thought long forgotten.

"Ses-sess…"

As she stumbled over her incredulous acknowledgment Sesshoumaru scented the fear on her breath and breathed deep. Her spiritual powers rose to the surface and tickled his flesh, but he welcomed it like a warm embrace.

This miko knew what he was and, more importantly, who he was. There, in front of him stammering over her shock was a being that reminded him of everything he thought he lost. But, in a time when he had nothing, she'd given him back a piece of himself.

"Sesshoumaru-sama?"

When he nodded she took a step back then they stood there, staring at each other as if planted to the ground. Seeing this miko again sparked a piece of him back to life, and he worried that if they moved it would be extinguished. Sesshoumaru had known loss and tedium, but in the instant he was acknowledged by his true name, those shameful years slowly started to fade.

Then, in the forgotten background, a young male's voice rang out. "Kagome!"

She turned from him and the spell was broken, but not its effects. As the young miko gestured towards a school boy he growled, demanding her interest once again. It was dangerous, determined, and comforting. The growl rolled past his throat like a forgotten song and was rewarded by her attention yet again.

Only this time, she smiled.

And his body heated as the loneliness started to melt away.

She was nervous, but reached out to him and lightly rested her small hand on the arm that once wasn't there; a sign of what he regained after a shameful loss. When the warmth of her hand reached his skin, Sesshoumaru felt hope for the first time in centuries.

"Find me."

He had lost his land, his ward, and his heritage, but with a simple and highly unlikely meeting he had found himself once again. Though he could not regain what once was, there was one thing he now could have.

That was alright. The way she spoke sounded like she was lost as well.

They were the only two in the world who could fully recognize the other.

Sesshoumaru turned to the only being alive that truly knew him, proof of his almost lost existence, then his eyes flashed gold when he scented her excitement as she walked away.

_Soon… Kagome…_

A/N to evilbunnyking: I hope you like it! This was the first thing that popped into my head when reading the prompts, and I wanted to up it with a more hopeful feeling. I hope that came across. Happy Holidays!


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